


If the Fates Allow

by bigboobedcanuck



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Car Sex, Christmas, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, ghost of christmas past - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 19:10:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigboobedcanuck/pseuds/bigboobedcanuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan is spending a lonely Christmas at Lake Tahoe. Veronica and Keith are staying nearby in a rented cabin. Afters some angst, Christmas miracles ensue. :)</p><p>
  <i>Keith stands over them, looking down with an expression Logan can’t immediately decipher. Logan’s heart skips a beat, and the words tumble out. “We were just—”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>A smile creases Keith’s face, and he pats Logan’s arm. “Merry Christmas.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Mmmm.” Veronica stretches her legs out, and then shoots up into a seated position, elbowing Logan in the stomach on her way. “Dad! We were watching the fire and I guess we fell asleep.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Keith throws another log into the fireplace. “Yes, I can see that. They don’t call me a detective for nothing.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	If the Fates Allow

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting my old fic from LJ here. Hoping the stories have aged well. :)
> 
> Spoilers to 309.

The sky is grey, and dried leaves skitter across Logan’s path as he walks alongside the Kanes’ pool. Lilly reclines on her favourite lounger, a faint smile on her lips as her fingers tap out an unheard melody on her thigh. She wears the pep squad outfit he last saw her in. 

Logan stands at her feet and waits for her to notice him. It takes a while before she opens her eyes and smiles. “Hey, lover. What’s new?”

“I don’t know. Lots. I don’t understand…” 

With a flounce, Lilly sits up. “Duh! I’m the ghost of Christmas past. Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not really.” He’d just been surfing, or was it rock climbing? A bit of both, weirdly enough.

“You remember that one year at your parents’ Christmas party when you, me and Duncan swiped a bottle of vodka and got wasted in the pool house?”

“You puked in the pool, how could I forget?”

Lilly shrieks with laughter. “Oh my god, wasn’t that gross? And then you pushed Duncan in and he said he’d never forgive you.” Her smile fades, and her tone is earnest. “But your dad was _totally_ cool about it.” 

The water was drained the next day. Logan remembers how the concrete was still wet when he plunged into the deep end, his shoulder dislocating with an audible snap. His father had seemed very far away above him when Logan was able to see straight again. 

The sky beings to darken, and Logan notices that the water is gone from this pool, too. “What are we doing here?”

Lilly glances around the backyard before looking up at him with those big eyes. “This is as far as I go.” She lies back on her chair, holding her arm out. “Wanna stay?”

He nods and takes her hand, curling up behind her. Her hair smells like Veronica’s, but her skin is cold under his palms. 

When Logan wakes, it’s just past three o’clock in the morning. The dream lingers, and his stomach turns. He rummages through his suitcase until he finds the Tums, popping four into his mouth, two at a time. The chalky residue settles onto his tongue.

The snow outside brightens his room, and he stands at the floor-to-ceiling window, watching fluffy white flakes drift down over the lake. The mountains rise into the sky, the moon reflecting off their snowy peaks. 

Logan figures he should go back to sleep, but doesn’t.

*

The slot machines all around ring and whistle with constant activity, and over on the roulette table, a woman screams with joy. Logan tries to block it out as he focuses on his cards. He’s pretty sure he can beat the dealer on this hand, but only if he takes a risk.

He taps the felt table. “Hit me.” 

The dealer flips over a card — the three of diamonds. “Twenty-one. The gentleman wins.” 

Someone slides into the seat beside Logan as he’s busy stacking his newly won chips. “Congrats.”

At the sound of Keith Mars’s voice, Logan looks up in surprise. “Thanks. What are you doing here?”

“I was just about to ask the same question. Hey, when’s your birthday again?”

Logan smirks. “Aw, you really don’t have to get me anything next year. Twenty-one was a big one.” He knows Keith is probably well aware that it was Veronica who made him the fake ID. 

Keith just smiles as he’s dealt into the next round. “What brings you to Tahoe?”

“Skiing, partying, gambling here on the Nevada side of the street.” Logan shrugs. “I don’t know. Thought it would be nice to have a white Christmas for once.”

“I would have thought you’d have spent plenty of Christmases in St. Moritz and Aspen.”

“You’d think. But my dad hated skiing, and he had a thing about tropical yuletides. I guess because it was the opposite of what he had when he was a kid. You know, proved how far he’d come, or something.”

Keith nods. “Right.” 

They play the hand, both folding early. Logan carefully keeps his tone casual. “So, is Veronica here?”

“Not here at the casino. I bought her one of those spa packages, so she’s getting wrapped in seaweed this morning. Or maybe it’s mud, I can’t remember. I figured I’d use my time wisely and lose what little money I have left over after paying for this vacation.”

Logan chuckles appropriately, and wishes they didn’t have to worry about money.

They play another hand, and Keith wins. “So, you’re here by yourself?”

“Dick was supposed to come, but a couple of days ago his mom bought him a ticket to come be with her and her family in Rio. Half-naked chicks on the beach won out over ski bunnies.” 

“Guess it was too late for you to cancel.” 

“Yeah.”

Truth was, Logan hadn’t wanted to spend another Christmas alone at the Grand. He hazily remembers drinking himself into a stupor last year, visions of Lilly and his father dancing through his head. 

“We’re going to get pizza and watch _Miracle on 34th Street_ tonight.”

Logan shakes his head, smiling. “Pizza? That’s not very Christmassy.”

“Hey, that’s a Mars family tradition, young man.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Logan places his bet and checks his cards. “So why'd guys come here? Must have been kind of last minute.”

“I was sick of watching Veronica mope around the apartment. Besides, we both needed the break.”

Logan simply nods, and begins obsessing over the idea of Veronica moping over him. 

Keith wins the hand again. “So what do you say? It’s Christmas Eve. The more the merrier.”

The invitation catches Logan off guard. “Uh, I’m not sure Veronica would agree.”

Keith stares for a long moment. “Let’s take a break.” He pushes his chair back and gathers up his chips. Logan doesn’t feel like he has a choice, so he follows suit. Keith leads the way to the bar, where he pulls up a stool and orders a scotch on the rocks. Logan is about to tell the bartender to make it two when Keith adds, “He’ll have a Coke.”

Logan can’t help but laugh, and he takes a sip of the fizzy soda as he waits for Veronica’s father to say whatever it is he wants to say.

“I heard you got in trouble a few weeks ago.”

Logan shrugs. “It was no big deal.”

“You just felt compelled to smash the windshield of a police cruiser with a baseball bat.”

“Well, you know how it is, Mr. Mars.”

Keith swallows a mouthful of scotch. “Yeah.” He shifts the ice around in his glass. “Sounds like Mercer Hayes and Moe Slater will be eating through straws for the next six weeks.”

Logan thinks of the parking lot, and Veronica in his arms, her hair on the pavement. As his fists had cracked Mercer and Moe’s bones, he’d felt in control for the first time in too long. “I guess those rapist types aren’t very popular in prison.”

“No, they don’t tend to be. And it’s funny — no one seems to know how it happened.”

“Guess it’s a mystery.” 

“Guess so.”

Logan doesn’t know what else to say. Keith waves to the bartender and to Logan’s surprise, he asks for two scotches. Keith lifts his glass, and Logan raises his accordingly. 

Keith clears his throat. “To Mercer and Moe, and many years on the inside.”

They clink their glasses together before the scotch burns its way down Logan’s throat.

*

Logan double checks the address Keith had scrawled on a cocktail napkin as he pulls into the quiet laneway. The cabins are well spaced out, and all that he can see of the Marses’ neighbours are lights twinkling through the snow-capped trees. He recognizes Keith’s car outside the small cabin, and parks his Land Rover behind it. The cabin looks dark, and Logan wonders if he should just go back to his suite.

He’s too late for pizza and the movie because he’d sat on his bed for an hour before finally deciding to go. Then he’d sat in his truck for another hour. Maybe he should just go back to the casino. At least there he can lose himself in the whirl of activity and not have to think about how—

A familiar bark breaks the silence, and Logan sees Veronica and Backup approaching in the rearview. He gets out and closes the door behind him as Backup bounds up, drooling happily. Logan sinks to one knee and kisses him, scratching behind his ears. 

“Hey.” Veronica stands a few feet away, watching. 

“Hey.” Logan gets up and brushes off the wet patch on his jeans. The night is still, and although the air is crisp, it doesn’t feel as cold as it had earlier, when the wind had whipped off the lake and Logan had felt like his ears were going to fall off.

“You’re late. My dad’s already in bed; he had a headache.”

“Sorry. I was just…” He waves his hand around, unable to come up with a decent excuse. “I should go anyway.”

“Got big plans at the casino?”

He bristles at her tone. “So what if I do?”

“So nothing. It’s your Christmas; you can spend it however you want.”

“Thanks for the permission.”

“I didn’t…” She sighs. “Let me just give Backup his dinner.”

Logan shrugs. “Okay. Whatever.”

Veronica takes the dog inside, and Logan paces aimlessly in front of the cabin. He’s decided that he should just go and not torture himself any further when Veronica comes back out. She watches him from the porch.

“Hey,” she repeats.

“Hey.” Logan runs his hand through his hair. “I should probably go. I mean, your dad’s not feeling well, and it’s getting late, so…”

“Right. If you want to go.”

They look at each other as the moment stretches out, and Logan wishes he could just make everything right — if it ever was right to begin with. He starts to turn away.

“Logan, I _do_ need you.” 

He stares, anything he might have said dying on his lips.

Veronica’s eyes glisten. “I know I don’t always show it. And I know that I make things hard sometimes. But I don’t mean to.”

Logan tries to speak over the lump in his throat, but can’t. Veronica wraps her arms around her stomach, and her voice cracks. “Do you still need me?”

He’s up the steps to the porch in a heartbeat, and she’s in his arms. Her mouth opens beneath his, and Logan moans low in his throat as he tastes her again. Their tongues wind together as he pulls her closer, closer. They stay like that for a long time, just kissing and holding on tightly.

When she sucks in a breath, they both stagger, and Logan backs her up against the wall of the cabin. He kisses her again as he tries to get past the layers of clothes she has on. She gasps as his hand dips into her track pants. “Cold!”

A laugh rips out of him, and he smothers her protests with another kiss. “You’ll have to warm my fingers up,” he murmurs. He slips one inside her, and Veronica moans, her head leaning back against the rustic wall. She wraps one leg around his hip, and he feels her getting wet as their tongues stroke and explore.

Veronica reaches down and squeezes him through his jeans and he thrusts into her hand, groaning. Their breath fogs in the winter air, white plumes appearing and disappearing between their faces.

“Hotel?” Veronica gasps out.

Logan rubs her clit. “Too far. Truck.” He captures her mouth again, and feels her nodding vigorously. 

They disentangle enough to practically run to the Land Rover. Logan throws open the back door and clambers inside, Veronica wasting no time in straddling his thighs as she slams the door behind her. They yank their jackets off, and Logan yelps as he pulls his underwear down enough to free his straining cock. “Fucking leather is cold!” 

Veronica bites his earlobe, pulling it between her teeth. “Well I guess we’ll have to warm it up.” She sits up on her knees and maneuvers her pants down to her ankles.

“Is it still okay?” Logan’s hands move under her fleece shirt, grateful that she’s not wearing a bra. He cups her breasts, thumbs flicking across her nipples.

She moans, and leans into his touch. “Yeah, it’s okay.” She looks him in the eye. “Have you…?”

Logan shakes his head and a moment later Veronica sinks onto him, hot and tight. “Oh god,” he breathes. “Veronica.” 

His fingers grip her hips as she moves up and down, her head tipped back, mouth drifting open. Logan sucks on her exposed neck, his hips driving up. He knows he’s not going to last — it’s been too long. Only weeks, but far, far too long. 

Veronica pushes him back across the seat, getting more leverage as they stretch out as much as they can. Logan’s legs are crammed into the far door, but as Veronica lifts herself almost all the way off before slamming down on his cock, he doesn’t give a damn. She starts riding him hard, moaning and gasping as she moves up and down, her hands gripping his shoulders.

Logan’s balls tighten, and he holds her in place as he thrusts up in the way that always makes her come, no matter what. Sure enough, she shudders and clenches around him, his name on her lips. He lets go, waves of pleasure washing over him as they both ride it out. 

They catch their breath, Veronica’s face pressed into the side of his neck. Logan knows that they should talk, that their problems won’t go away so easily. But he stays silent. The windows are all fogged up, and the truck is like a cocoon.

He draws lazy circles on her back under her shirt as his heartbeat slowly goes back to normal. After a few minutes they sit up, Veronica still straddling his lap, her thighs warm and smooth. She leans her forehead against his, and they kiss softly.

He’s about to tell her that he loves her, but for the first time, she beats him to it.

*

Logan wakes to the smell of coffee brewing. He shifts, wincing slightly as he tries to restore circulation to the arm that’s currently pinned under…Veronica’s head. Everything rushes back, and Logan’s mouth curls up as he shifts on the small couch where they’re spooned together. Veronica murmurs, and he presses a kiss to the top of her head as he opens his eyes.

Keith stands over them, looking down with an expression Logan can’t immediately decipher. Logan’s heart skips a beat, and the words tumble out. “We were just—”

A smile creases Keith’s face, and he pats Logan’s arm. “Merry Christmas.” 

“Mmmm.” Veronica stretches her legs out, and then shoots up into a seated position, elbowing Logan in the stomach on her way. “Dad! We were watching the fire and I guess we fell asleep.” 

Keith throws another log into the fireplace. “Yes, I can see that. They don’t call me a detective for nothing.”

Backup bounds over, and enthusiastically licks both Logan and Veronica. After Veronica breaks free, she stands up and surveys the small cabin as she stretches her arms over her head. “So. What do people do on Christmas if they can’t take a long walk on the beach to work up an appetite?”

Clapping his hands together, Keith says, “Bundle up, and let’s find out.”

Twenty minutes later, Veronica and Logan stand outside the cabin. They both eye Keith skeptically. “Dad, I think you should be taking part in this alleged white Christmas ritual, too.”

“I’m supervising.”

Veronica’s eyebrow arches. “You’re not qualified.”

Keith ignores her and moves Logan over a step. “Okay, there we go.” 

Before Veronica or Logan can voice any more protest, Keith topples them both over into the snow with a firm shove. “Now flap your wings, kids!”

As the snow soaks into his jeans, Logan says, “We’re going to make him pay for this, right?” 

Veronica snorts. “Oh, you’d better believe it.” 

“All right, the only flapping I see is your gums. These are going to be the saddest-looking snow angels ever.” Keith puts his hands on his hips as Backup barks softly at his side, watching them with a cocked head.

Logan feels like an idiot, but he dutifully starts moving his arms and legs back and forth. He can’t help but laugh, and he can hear Veronica giggling beside him. When they’re done, Keith helps them stand up, and they all survey the new angels imprinted in the snow. 

Veronica smiles sweetly. “You know, I think I’ve heard of another Christmas tradition involving snow.” 

“What’s that, honey?”

Veronica catches Logan’s eye, and he grins slyly in return.

Before Keith can run, they tackle him to the ground and bury him, their angels disappearing in a tangle of limbs. 

*

“I can’t believe you talked me into this. You know I only saw snow in real life for the first time three days ago, right?” 

“Veronica, you only live once.” 

“I’m painfully aware of that.”

They get to the front of the line, and awkwardly move into position as the chair lift circles around. Veronica’s skis slip a little, and she grasps his hand tightly. “Logan, whatever you do, don’t let go.” 

He holds on, and the lift sweeps them into the sky.


End file.
